If you ask a young person today about weed, what comes to mind isn't rolling a joint or taking a bong hit, getting the munchies and chilling out. In fact, cannabis today is practically an entirely different product than what most people think it is, so before you start saying, 'What's the big deal about legalizing weed?' there's a lot you should know.

The chill is gone and the heat is on. In the 1970s, mellowing out with a joint and a slice of pizza was a whole different experience—you'd have to smoke about 15 joints in 1970 to get the same high as just one joint in 2017. Yet today, if you talk to people who use recreational weed, more than likely they aren't even thinking about rolling one up—they're thinking 'concentrates.' Check this out: in the 1970s THC levels in cannabis were less than 4%, today it averages 25%, but in concentrates, THC levels can be as high as 80%, and that's where the train jumps the tracks. Concentrates contain the highest levels of THC available, and they come in a whole new form: thick oils, smooth buttery substances (wax), or rock-hard like a Jolly Rancher. You don't roll this stuff up and smoke it. In order to combust, these new forms require about 700 degrees of heat—you'd need a red-hot needle, super-heated knife, or a vaporizer made to handle that kind of heat (Did images of people smoking crack or meth come to mind? They should).

There's always room for dessert! Ah yes – the booming appetite for edibles. Super-potent. You'd have to eat a whole pan of 'herb brownies' to get the concentration of THC that's in today's lollipops or gummies. How cool is that?

Just ask kids—after all, they're the target market for weed and concentrates today. Since most older consumers have been using weed for decades, they're already on board. In Colorado, advertisements flood newspapers and billboards with two-for-ones, free samples, guest appearances by superheroes and adorable Koala spokes-bears on special days like, 'Waxy Wednesdays' and 'Shatterdays.' This young and growing market of kids are easily swayed by cool packaging and images like the one of Cookie Monster sharing a plate of 'special cookies,' which is painted on the outside of a Colorado dispensary located right beside a kindergarten.

Industrialization—the key to safe, regulated products. Okay, now it really is time to wake up and smell the coffee. With industrialization comes political agendas, overpaid lobbyists, big marketing budgets, and not far behind, monopolies on manufacturing and distribution. Small farmers will feel the pinch as prices soar with the domination of corporate America under the guise of good old capitalism. There goes the neighborhood.

In Weed, Inc. Cort responds to statements like:

It's not addictive

It's organic

It's safer than alcohol

Nobody has ever died from weed

Crime will come down and the cartels will suffer

Plus, he includes definitions of pertinent terms, such as: 710, 420 and 3750, dabbing, waxing, vaping, A-bomb, shatter, Budtender, ditch weed and more. We each have our own ideas of what the world of legal, recreational cannabis looks like, but more than likely, we know far less than we think we know. This seminal book will take you into the real world of legalized weed and open your eyes to topics such as:

Environmental concerns (water, fertilizers, power, etc.)

Medical concerns

Social justice

The lobby (what businesses stand to gain by this new industry)

Law enforcement

Organized crime

FDA involvement

And much more

For every individual, every school and public library, and every bookstore committed to carrying the most up-to-date information on topics that affect families, government policy, industry, and social systems, this book is indispensable.

Introduction

Who I Am and What I Do and Do Not Care About

Let's get one thing straight right off the bat, before we even begin this thing: I am not concerned with casual adult marijuana use. So long as kids don't see you (and if they do, realize that it reduces their perception of risk, making them more likely to use before their brains are developed and causing them much more harm), and you are not driving (I don't think I need to make much of a case against driving under the influence), I seriously don't care if an adult chooses to consume weed. As a recovering drug addict, not only do I not get to throw stones, I have no interest in the conversation. We will get into all of this later, but by the age of twenty-five to twenty-six a person's brain is pretty well developed. The likelihood of doing harm to yourself or others because of your use is significantly reduced, unless you're doing something dumb or irresponsible while intoxicated—so just don't do dumb things!

With that said there is potential for harm with any mood-altering substance that intoxicates. I'm not advocating for the adults reading this book to put it down, settle into a comfy sofa, press play on The Wizard of Oz and The Dark Side of the Moon at the same time while blazing one. If you choose to, however, don't drive and don't let kids see you and I won't say a word against it.

We're only a few sentences in, but I'll bet I've managed to piss off some of you already. The old school of drug abuse prevention is likely unable to reconcile how someone who is so publicly opposed to marijuana commercialization could say something as heretical as what I just did. I can hear it now, 'Can you believe this? Now the author is advocating that people get high! He even suggests they do it while watching Judy Garland, God rest her soul!'

At the same time the pro-legalization crowd is likely yelling at the page, 'There aren't chemicals in a plant! Driving high isn't nearly as bad as other things we could be doing, not to mention that kids shouldn't be lied to about adult use,' or, 'It's the same old reefer madness crap. The war on drugs is a failure so back off and stop crusading!'

Warning: If the first few sentences did, indeed, frustrate you, it may be time to put this book down, walk away, hold onto the position that you had when you picked the book up, and keep on keeping on, no hard feelings.

Still with me? Good, because I wasn't writing this for the hard-liners anyway. I'm not putting this together for those so entrenched in the dogma of their own 'side' that they will reject anything that confronts the construct through which they view this issue. I'm writing for those of you who are genuinely interested in learning about this complex topic. People who are scratching their heads trying to sift through the news reports to decide what is best for themselves, their families, their states, and their countries. It is for people wrestling with this issue, and for those willing to consider that they may have more to learn. That the experiences on which you have formed your opinion of what is going on with weed and the changing legal landscape today might not be all encompassing. It's tough not to rely solely on our experiences to form our opinions. As Nelson Mandela said, 'Where you stand depends on where you sit.'

With that last thought in mind it's pretty important that you understand where I sit and how that has influenced where I stand. I have opinions about this that have been formed over many years, and more will come out about what has influenced me, but to start off here are a few highlights. I'm a recovering drug addict and alcoholic, sober since June 15, 1996. I am a resident of Colorado living in Boulder County and working in Denver. I am married and my wife and I are raising three school-aged kids. When I wrote this, I was working for a nonprofit drug and alcohol treatment program at the University of Colorado Hospital and have been in this field since 2007. I am also pretty involved in this issue of marijuana policy both locally and nationally. I'll expand on all of this shortly but I think the bottom line is that I am right smack in the middle of the action and I'm keeping my eyes open. Much has changed in my home state the last few years and, among other things, I hope to give you a street-level view of those changes.

To counter the list of who I am, I now offer who I am not: a doctor. In fact, I barely graduated from high school and earned my first college credits last year at thirty-six. With that said, I can read and understand the scientific process well enough to understand the studies that will be cited. My knowledge on this subject does not come through formal classroom education although I attend lots of sessions on the subject at medical and therapeutic conferences. Heck, I even led many of them. Trust me, the irony of a guy like me leading sessions for politicians, doctors, law enforcement, etc., is not lost on either me or my lovely wife!

More often than not, I will shake my head and laugh to myself before taking the stage, stepping in front of a camera, or sitting down with people who truly shape the world in which we live. In my mind's eye I'm still that kid who got sober and learned to live again. I have been blessed beyond belief. I would much rather be working directly with those struggling to overcome addiction, hanging out with my amazing family, or chasing trout with my fly rod than having this conversation. I do so because there is a real need to write this book; I wish there was not.

Alas, if toothpicks were ocean liners we would cross the season toothpicks, my wishing isn't helping much. This is a complex subject and I've been avoiding writing this for too long. In what follows I intend to be honest, I hope to be educational, and I trust what I write will be considered.

I care deeply for my home state. My family moved to Boulder, Colorado when I was four years old and remained here until I was twelve when we moved to Northern Virginia, the suburbs of Washington, DC. Home to the University of Colorado, Boulder is a college town with a laid-back vibe; a layover for wanderers with their lives on their backs, most good natured, some intimidating. It's close to Denver but a world away. The foothills of the Rockies are right at the edge of town and you can easily spend the afternoon hiking and fishing. For a kid, it was a magical place to grow up.

Colorado was home to me, even after we moved away, and I dreamed about the day I could go back there to live again. Much of my childhood, my parents were on public assistance and we couldn't afford to return to the Centennial state after we moved away. Still, every so often, I would be reminded of home. I'd see a jay in camp and its call would remind me of the Rockies. The scent of pine trees would make me think of hiking the trails at Chautauqua Park in the shadow of the Flatirons. I'd hear a song or think of a forgotten friend from those years and immediately I'd be transported back to the Colorado of my childhood. We'd camp and climb and fish not only because they were the only forms of recreation our family could afford, but also because we loved to explore. The meat in the freezer was harvested with pride by my father and eventually by us both. The name John Elway was—and still is—to be spoken with awe and reverence at all times. Colorado has always been a paradise on earth in my mind. A place where one can climb ice in the morning up Clear Creek Canyon, climb rock in the afternoon on the Golden Cliffs, and still make it into town for fresh sushi and a show. The opportunity to find adventure in our wilderness and culture in our urban areas is a rare thing. With the robust economy and the opportunities for adventure, one can not only earn a living here but have a good life.1

After marrying much further out of my league than anyone should, I returned to Colorado with my wife, Christy, in the fall of 2003. Money was really tight and we needed to have a yard sale in order to rent a moving truck. We had few dollars in our pockets when we got there and even fewer plans that involved much more than a tent, a fly rod, and a climbing rack.

But as I said, I've been blessed. I'd left what I thought to be a promising job in Pennsylvania as a chimney sweep two years earlier for what turned out to be an amazing profession: recruiting. Although I had no job when we moved to Colorado, this was something I'd started doing before I left the East Coast, and I was able to continue it when I moved to the West. I worked for hospitals and helped them find and hire doctors. It was easy work, paid the bills, and, most importantly, didn't get in the way of our exploration of the state. We took road trips, backpacked, camped, and biked all over the state in the ensuing years. As I reacquainted myself with the land and people, and tried to understand both as an adult, I was able to introduce my wife to this place and it to her. Both were richer for it.

1 If this book sells more than the twenty copies that my family and friends will buy, I expect some kind of remuneration from the Colorado Department of Tourism for that last part.

Ben Cort (Longmont, Colorado) spent a decade inside the drug and alcohol addiction treatment field and is now is a consultant to the industry. Ben joined the drug policy conversation at the national level in 2012. He was part of the "No on 64" campaign, and following the amendment's passage—which changed the Colorado constitution to allow for a statewide drug policy for cannabis—he was appointed to the Board of Directors of Project SAM (Smart Approaches to Marijuana) as well as NALGAP (the National Association of Lesbian, Gay, and Transgender Treatment Providers). Ben's passion about the intersection of recovery and public policy makes him a frequent guest in the media.